


A Fantasy

by Star (docfics)



Series: New Territory [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Foursome, M/M, Master/Pet, Polyamory, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-06-27 03:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/docfics/pseuds/Star
Summary: Megatron has a talk with his bonded about one of his deepest fantasies.





	1. The First

There was something about being bonded to three mechs that both wore Megatron down and kept him feeling alive, creative. Especially with such energetic mates as Rodimus, Drift and Starscream.

This particular idea came to him one day when he saw all three recharging together—curled up in an unusual display of affection; Starscream chirping softly in his sleep as both Rodimus and Drift softly revved their engines.

Seeing them like that, Megatron had no doubt— _ none _ —that they would make perfect pets.

He approached Rodimus about it first.

He had thought about approaching them all at once, but there were plenty of disastrous outcomes to that. Drift, still new to their bond and trying to settle in, would be forced to play peacekeeper as Rodimus’ excitement clashed with Starscream’s stubbornness--and, if Megatron were to be honest, Starscream’s  _ jealousy. _ Despite being Megatron’s first bonded and then bonding with both Drift and Rodimus, the Seeker still somehow found time to be possessive of the warlord. It was somewhat endearing, but was often a hindrance when they were all trying to figure out their new, four-way bond.

Megatron had decided isolating Rodimus’ enthusiastic personality would work best in the scenario he had been working out in his head, so that’s where he found himself now--Rodimus sprawled on the bed, watching him pace the room, slow and steady and…

He really should start speaking.

“ _ Ahem. _ ” Megatron cleared his throat, frame running warmer than expected, and doing his best to ignore the raised brow Rodimus gave him. “So, I brought you here because I wished to speak to you about something.”   
  
“Obviously.” Rodimus drawled, wedging a pillow under his head and snuggling down into it, lazy optics tracking over Megatron’s frame. “I mean, I’m ready to listen. Once you stop pacing.”

Megatron froze. He supposed...he realized that what was meant to be a measured, firm march did indeed just look like nervous pacing. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders to rid his frame of the tension that was slowly building up.

“Right. Rodimus, this doesn’t just involve you. It involves both Drift and Starscream. I came to you first because I believed you would be more, well,  _ open _ to the situation, and it would help convince the oth--”

“Wait.” Rodimus blurted out, jerking up on the bed with sudden excitement in his optics. “You’re talking about…!”

Megatron’s insides grew tight. Had Rodimus seen right through him? Were his desires that transparent? It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was rather embarrassing.

Rodimus clapped his servos together. “You’re gonna let Starscream  _ lay eggs in you? _ ”

Megatron almost choked on his own ventilations.

“Rodimus, for the love of Primus--!” He sputtered, slapping a heavy hand on his chest to get his vents circulating properly. “No! I am not letting anyone lay  _ eggs in me…! _ ”

He heard Rodimus mutter “coward” and decided that it was now or never.

“I am thinking--if all of you are willing--to modify some of our time spent together, at home, into a particular lifestyle--I wish to ask you all to be my  _ pets! _ ”

That was not the calm, collected way he had wanted to present that. Perhaps desire had been clouding his judgement, because he had forgotten how easily Rodimus could get him flustered and stumbling over his own words. Perhaps Drift would have been the best to go to first--Starscream and Rodimus were so much alike. Yes, desire was definitely clouding his judgement since he had forgotten this as well.

But it was out there now. Megatron flickered his optics up towards the bed--and saw Rodimus staring at him with a slack jaw. Megatron shifted uneasily on one foot and continued, since Rodimus was too busy just gaping at him.

“A pet. I’ve done some reading, it’s particularly common amongst organics and there are some mechs who practice it as well--taking on the role of a chosen creature and allowing yourself to be trained, taken care of…” Megatron’s frame was heating up even more as he struggled to get the words out.

He had thought this would come easily. He had led an entire  _ war faction,  _ for Primus sake. But things had changed, and this “dirty little secret” he had always kept deep back in his processor now wanted to bloom--he wanted to lead again, in a much smaller respect, and care for the mechs he had chosen to share his life with. It was vulnerable, it was filthy and it was  _ embarrassing. _

Megatron was once again so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even register Rodimus had gotten up and had taken his larger servo in his own sturdy one. Examining Rodimus’ face, Megatron saw that his bonded was looking up at him with a crooked grin and an expression entirely void of disgust. Megatron’s spark pounded in his chest, and he gave Rodimus a small smile back.

There was a moment of silence, then Rodimus’ voice--deeper and huskier than usual--sending a thrill down Megatron’s backstrut. “So...do I get a collar?”

Megatron finally allowed himself a sigh of relief. 

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yes i have decided "the world needs more of this OT4 bc holy SHIT they work well together" and i was also horny so this was born
> 
> additional tags will be added, warnings will go on extreme kink stuff but everything will be consensual if not chaotic. we are dealing with four loveable idiots here.
> 
> got any ideas for this au? wanna talk to me abt these smutty mechs? go here! https://twitter.com/mechpiss


	2. The Second

Rodimus had begged,  _ pleaded— _ even tried to barter with a handjob _ — _ to be included when the idea was introduced to the others, but Megatron had refused. He’d decided these meetings must be held one on one, as it allowed for a more intimate environment and alleviated some of the pressure on what decision to make. 

Plus, he was constantly looking for ways to strengthen his bond with Drift. It was no secret to the others that millions of years ago, Deadlock and Megatron had forged a bond born of bloodshed and war, but Starscream and Rodimus didn't know much of the other things--whispered promises, a thumb swiping against Deadlock’s cheek, and lips so close it would only take a nudge to allow them to meet.

But the past was to be mourned. Megatron had the opportunity now to make  _ real _ promises to Drift, to touch him with hands far more gentle than before, and to continue closing that gap between their lips, whispering adoration for the mech Drift had become. Their bond was now that of mechs who wanted to leave the carnage behind--to take on the world with a different approach, and because of that, their relationship in the four-way bond was unique.

Megatron vaguely recognized he was pining for Drift. After all, who wouldn’t? Even Starscream--fickle little thing that he was--could be seen sliding into Drift’s lap, whispering something into the mech’s audial that would split Drift’s face into a grin. Megatron wondered what secrets they held from their own past.

He found the white and red mech in their personal training room--situated comfortably on the mat, hands resting on his knees and head dipped in silent contemplation. Meditation. Megatron was disappointed, but started to back out of the doorway. He could come back in a few hours and hopefully find Drift less occupied--

“Megatron. You can come in.”

Four million years of war and Megatron still  _ startled. _ Once again, embarrassment settled on him because  _ Primus damn it,  _ he was struggling to appear anything but flustered in front of these mechs.

“Drift, I apologize.” He began, his voice a low rumble as he took a step in. Drift slowly lifted his helm as his optics flickered online--that beautiful, piercing blue, decorated with black wings on the sides and jagged red lines below. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meditations. I assume you sensed my presence anyway…”

Drift gave him a soft smile, shifting to stretch his arms above his head, letting out a sigh of relief as the plates of his frame made a popping noise. “Nothing with auras this time, Megatron. I was simply reading our bond. I could feel the disappointment from your side…” His smile twitched upwards, mischievous, and Megatron’s spark did a little twirl. “Starscream is currently feeling disgruntled and Rodimus is…”

He paused, and his optics flickered up to Megatron, his mouth a full on smirk now. “Horny, apparently?”

Megatron allowed himself a dry chuckle, doing his best to once again relax. “Of course he is. I’m not surprised, considering the conversation we had.” He straightened his shoulders, taking a few more steps into the room. “In fact, I’d like to have the same conversation with you.” 

Drift’s audials gave a light flick as his optics met Megatron’s own, gorgeous in their intensity as he took in the words before speaking.

“I see. Well, while we talk, do you mind helping me stretch? I’m a little stiff from sitting that long.” 

And with one graceful movement, he slid forward then onto his back on the mat, lifting one slender, powerful leg into the air. Megatron’s mouth went dry as Drift lay there patiently, waiting for the gears in Megatron’s head to start turning.

Lucky for them both, the warlord didn’t hesitate once he realized what Drift wanted. He moved quickly, large servos reaching out to scoop around the metal of Drift’s leg. He began to push it slowly back, trusting Drift to alert him if he moved it too far.

Drift’s soft “mmm” of delight made Megatron’s spark feel like liquid. He pushed until Drift gently requested him to stop, and held his leg in that position as Drift silently counted down. 

The warlord repeated the process with the other leg—but this time, Megatron began to rub circles into Drift’s armor before finally speaking. “What I’m about to ask—it’s an idea, a request…a lifestyle change. I’ve already spoken to Rodimus about it and plan to ask Starscream next, but if we all agree, it will be the next big step in this relationship we’ve built.” Megatron glanced over Drift’s leg to gaze down at him, keeping his grip firm even as more fingers began to roam the armor.

“Sounds important. You can lower my leg a bit, but please:” Drift gave him that playful little smirk yet again. “Keep talking and using those fingers.”

Megatron met the smirk this time, but his fans were threatening to click on. He slid two fingers along the transformation seams of Drift’s leg, dipping them in slightly as plating shifted to give him better access to the cables underneath. His fingers were too broad to dig deeply, but the light brush over the sensitive wiring earned him a soft moan from the swordsmech below.

Megatron swallowed thickly, pulling his fingers back out because if he kept this up, he’d lose track of everything he planned to say.

“Drift.” He started, gently lowering the other’s mech leg and watching as Drift slowly pulled himself up, spreading his legs easily and leaning to one side so his fingers could touch a pede. Primus, Drift was dangerous. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Now that the war is over, and things have settled—I’ve begun entertaining certain ideas, fantasies, and...desires.”

Another cough as he watched Drift switch to the other leg. “We are all still getting used to each other—some of us are adjusting to the change of another, rebuilding old bonds—and as these bonds are built…”

He stopped, trying to catch his breath as Drift glanced up at him--optics lidded, a soft smile on his face. Megatron was aware he was acting like a fool, and was eternally thankful for Drift’s patience. He in-vented deeply.

“I apologize. I’m not being direct at all. It’s rather embarrassing, but to be truthful, this is something I find myself incredibly flustered to even speak about.” He allowed himself a small smile at his own ridiculous behavior. “I need to just spit it out.”

Drift’s smile grew. “I would like to know what you’re trying to say, but if you don’t mind me saying, it’s rather charming to see you like this.”

Megatron’s vents stuttered, but he had to laugh. “Drift, you’re going to be the end of me.” He took in a deep breath before finally speaking what had been on his mind this entire conversation.

“Drift, I want to make you all my pets. As I mentioned before, there have been fantasies and desires I’ve always longed for--and now, after everything that has happened in my life, I want to put my leadership qualities, my emotions for you, Rodimus and Starscream--into caring for you. Attempting this lifestyle with you.”   
  


He let out a vent he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. “I’m overcomplicating this. And I have doubts--that I don’t deserve this, that it won’t work out--but I long for it. However, I only wish to pursue it if all three of you are involved. That is important to me.”

The look Drift gave him was unreadable as he slowly pulled back from his stretch, blue optics meeting Megatron’s red ones. When he spoke, it was slow. Careful.

“Why do you need all three of us involved?”

Megatron hummed softly, crossing his arms. “I can’t give you much of an answer beyond it’s just what I want. It feels right--perhaps I want the chance to connect us, to give you all this unique sense of intimacy as a group.”

“What did Rodimus say?” Drift questioned, slowly pushing himself to a stand.

Megatron squared his shoulders. “I don’t want to say. I want everyone to make the decision on their own, without knowing what the others said.”

Drift’s neutral look shifted into something-- _ devious,  _ really. “His side of the bond with me is practically crackling with arousal. I think I can guess.”

Megatron sighed. “Ignore it, then. Like I said, I want this to be--”

He never finished his sentence. Quick as lighting, slender servos were cupping his face--and Drift was  _ kissing _ him. Passionate but soft, keeping Megatron’s face clasped tightly in his grip. Megatron leaned into the kiss with no hesitation, hungry as anything to taste Drift--and it could have lasted an eternity if Megatron hadn’t slid a servo around Drift’s back, which made the other mech seem to snap out of the moment, optics widening from where they had begun to slide shut.

A small flash of worry crossed Drift’s face as he pulled back, the look turning almost sheepish. “You know, that was kind of reckless. Maybe a little inappropriate? Kissing my former  _ boss  _ to shut him up…” 

Megatron let out a low, rumbling laugh. “Please. I’m not your boss anymore, Drift.”

Drift’s fingers picked up their rigorous tapping on Megatron’s chest, and he tilted his head up, that smirk appearing once again on his face. Rodimus’ smirks were cocky. Starscream’s were devious. Drift? His were  _ sultry. _ Just a little crafty as well, but Megatron felt as if he could turn liquid right then and there.

“You’re right.” Drift murmured. “You’re not my boss.”

The tapping stopped, and Drift spread his palms flat, leaning up to the warlord, their lips so close Megatron was tempted to kiss him again, until Drift spoke.

“But you could be my  _ Master. _ ”

Megatron’s spark stopped in his chest and he must have looked like a  _ fool. _ He tried to say something, anything--but what came out of his mouth was nothing but static. There were very few moments in Megatron’s life where he had no idea what to say, and this was one of them.

Drift’s audials twitched--then he began to _laugh_. A laugh straight from his core as he leaned against Megatron, practically wheezing, managing to squeeze out a few words in between gasps of laughter.

“I--I’m so,  _ haaa-- _ I’m so sorry, it sounded smooth, Rodimus’ always has rubbed off on me--but this all sounded so wonderful,  _ heh, _ I didn’t know what to say.”

Megatron finally managed to get a word out. “Wonderful?”

Drift sniffled as his laughter died off, curling his fingers against Megatron’s broad, powerful chest. Their optics met again, and Megatron took note of how Drift’s cheeks were lightly tinged purple.

“Well, I have a confession. Those fantasies, those desires you’ve had? We share them--except I’ve, mm...I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end. You’re giving me something I’ve always wanted.”

Megatron’s spark was now pounding wildly, and he allowed himself to draw Drift closer, large servos cupping Drift’s hips, sliding down a bit to brush against his aft. He knew he needed to get to Starscream, but the temptation to stay here and let his hands drift more, and more…

It took all of his substantial willpower not to follow that train of thought. 

“Well then, Drift.” His voice was somewhat breathless. “I would be honored to be your…” The word felt rather foreign on his tongue, a little awkward, but he would adjust. “Your...Master.”

Drift’s smile was delightful. The temptation was growing, growing--so Megatron forced himself to let go of his hip with one last swipe of his fingers. “And I want to talk about this more, I truly do, and I’m sure you can tell I want to stay…”

Drift snickered. “Even if we weren’t bonded, I think I could guess.”

Megatron laughed once more. “Going right for my throat, aren’t you? You look beautiful right now.” He leaned down--pressing a kiss to Drift’s cheek as Drift rubbed a circle into his chest. “But--”

“--Starscream.” Drift finished for him, smile bright as anything. “And I completely understand. I wish you luck, and Megatron…” He leaned in, right next to Megatron’s audial. “I cannot wait to continue this conversation.”

Megatron made a choked noise, but otherwise managed to keep his composure as he parted from Drift, mourning the loss of the contact but feeling otherwise encouraged.

The last, and hardest part, was next.

Drift seemed to sense this, and patted his arm in encouragement. “Just be open and honest. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Megatron decided not to comment on how, even after four million years, he and Starscream were still working on the  _ open and honest _ front--but he smiled at Drift and nodded. “I’m sure it will.”

He took the hand on his shoulder, gave Drift a parting kiss to his knuckles that had the handsome mech’s audials twitching with delight before turning to go. 

Two down, one to go.

One very stubborn--stubborn but  _ wonderful _ \--loud and destructive seeker to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never written megatron/drift before but holy shit was it fun


	3. The Third

Megatron loved Starscream.

It was a simple concept, but the execution was anything but. Their relationship—spanning from the first time Starscream had approached him and presented himself to the cause all the way to the current day—had always been nothing short of a chaotic rollercoaster of a bond.

Starscream had betrayed him hundreds of times, attempted to murder him on dozens of occasions, disobeyed orders, screamed and fought against him till their vocalizers were shorted out—but Megatron  _ loved _ him.

He loved the wide span of his wings, the elegant curve of his waist tucked under a broad chest, polished to a perfect sheen. Loved when his fangs peeked out in his signature snarl or grimace. Every stupid, failed plan and the surprise of every successful one was a treat and the moments where he got to carry him back to his to berth after finding him passed out at the desk—all treasures.

He had loved Starscream through their best and their worst. Covered in blood with the faction cheering for their win or beaten down, armor crushed by a failed attack. He loved him even as Starscream stood trial against him.

Four millions years. Millions more could pass and he would never, ever stop loving that wicked, screaming star of a seeker that had clawed his way into his life.

Megatron found Starscream easily, hunched over blueprints in the room that was designated as his lab. Many a shanix had gone into designing the room, keeping it updated with the newest equipment—frankly, it was beautiful. Starscream was lucky to have it, given that he’d been tasked with working on important projects such as energon production and energy redistribution for Cybertron.

However, Starscream didn’t treat the lab like the privilege it was. Instead, Megatron felt like he had been transported back to the seeker’s lab on the Nemesis—datapads piled so high they constantly fell over, project schematics tossed haphazardly over crowded tables and tools left carelessly on the floor.

He almost tripped on a demagnetizing tool as he made his way over to Starscream, rumbling a soft “Hello” in greeting before sliding his servos over the edges of Starscream’s wings. They fluttered beneath his grip—a sign that Starscream was in a good mood.

“Can I help you?” The seeker inquired without looking back—merely tilting his head automatically so Megatron could press kiss after tender kiss against the delicate cables of his neck. Charge crackled with each press of his lips to Starscream’s frame, and the seeker’s wings twitched. “You seem worked up.”

Megatron heaved a great breath against Starscream’s neck—perversely delighted to feel the tremble that was born of it. 

“You have  _ no _ idea.” He murmured, pressing his nose deep into Starscream’s neck to take in his scent. He must have been working for quite a while—the usual scent of polish was mixed in with a vaguely chemical smell and that of grease. Megatron didn’t care—it still smelled of Starscream.

He knew he had a reason for being here, but the only thing that brought him out of his lovesick haze was a sudden grope to his codpiece that had his optics flying wide open. It took every ounce of self control he had not to open and immediately pressurize into Starscream’s hand.

“Wait—“ He choked out. “Not now. That isn’t what I’m here for.”

The look on Starscream’s face was more than just a little offended. “Oh.” He scoffed, retracting his servo and shaking it as if he had touched something dirty. “I see. You come in and grope me, but when I touch  _ you _ …”

“Starscream.” Megatron had to resist the urge to reset his optics, reaching out to grasp Starscream’s talons in his own servo. “That isn’t it. Believe me when I say there isn’t anything I’d like more than to take you  _ right here _ , bent over your workdesk...but I came here to talk about something.”

Starscream’s cheekplates had turned slightly purple at Megatron’s words, despite the scowl that crossed his face, but at least he didn’t jerk his servo away this time.

“Well then--get on with it.”

Megatron had expected this to happen. A simple conversation was never possible with Starscream—but then again, when had that ever deterred him? In an attempt to soothe Starscream’s slowly building ire, Megatron lifted the seeker’s hand to his mouth and pressed a delicate kiss to it.

Starscream’s scowl softened, and Megatron knew from the past two conversations that dancing around the topic would do no good. Drift had left him with a sense of confidence. It was now or never.

“My beloved star.” He murmured, rubbing a thumb over Starscream’s knuckle joints. “Times have changed, our lives are different. There’s been something I’ve wanted for a long time—and I’ve decided it’s time to pursue it.”

Another kiss pressed to Starscream’s servo before red met red, their gazes firmly locked.

“Be my pet.”

The look on Starscream’s face would have been comical if not for the serious nature of the request. It was a mixture of shocked, flushed— _ offended _ —and probably a dozen other emotions. He spluttered, trying to pull his servo away.

“Your  _ pet—! _ ” He squawked, glaring at Megatron’s huge servo with such a vile look, Megatron decided it was best to let him go. It didn’t fare well for the seeker, however—whose agitated flailing and pointing and spluttering at Megatron caused him to almost fall off the chair, and it was only his natural balance as a flight frame that kept him upright.

“So that’s what this relationship has come to. You want to make me  _ submissive _ ,  _ obedient _ to your  _ every whim _ and, and...”

“No.” Megatron interrupted him calmly, inwardly thankful he had decided to approach Starscream last. It had given him time to muster up all his patience for this encounter. “What I want is to engage in a master and pet lifestyle, roleplaying as we see fit, allowing you to pursue any desires you may have…and to shower you with gifts. Treats and other such things.”

Starscream went quiet, eyes narrowing with suspicious interest.

“...Gifts?” He asked.

“Gifts.” Megatron repeated, nodding slightly. “Think of it, Starscream. Pretty collars with your name on it, off-world trinkets and clothing, sweet, juicy energon treats…”

He leaned in as far as Starscream would allow him, voice dropping to a low rumble.

“And many new, pretty things to slide into that lovely valve of yours.”

He saw the full-body shiver that wracked Starscream’s body, and felt the charge that jumped off the seeker’s plating and onto his own. He pushed on, nudging his lips to Starscream’s audial, kissing it lightly before speaking again.

“You can see it, can’t you? A beautiful white collar, a vibrator in your valve, and when I tell you to raise your aft, I’ll slide a plug in till you’re fully stretched out.”

Starscream let out a soft little moan, and Megatron resisted the urge to smirk. He gently planted another kiss on Starscream’s audial, then continued along his jaw.

“You’ll be so beautiful. And I won’t be forcing you to be submissive. We’ll work together.”

“H-hah.” Starscream stuttered out, wings flickering as he squirmed in his chair. “Since when has that ever worked?”

Megatron hummed and pressed yet another kiss to the seeker’s jaw, delighting in how warm Starscream was. “Rarely. But when it did…you know it was fantastic.”

Starscream made a non-committal grunt as Megatron nuzzled into his neck, attempting to soothe Starscream with warm kisses and nips to his cable and jaw. It seemed to be working, as Starscream was beginning to lean against him as Megatron whispered sweet nothings into his audial—when the seeker suddenly snapped his head up, optics lidded with warm lust.

“So…am I the  _ only _ one you asked about this?” Starscream inquired, running a hand slowly down Megatron’s chest.

Megatron didn’t hesitate with his firm answer, even if it meant enduring sudden jealousy from the seeker. “No; I asked Drift and Rodimus as well.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed—and the silence that stretched between them was deafening.

“...You asked me last?” His voice was tense. Megatron knew a possible outburst was coming, so he attempted to forestall it.

“Yes. Because you’re my first bonded. I saved the best for last.” This was mostly a lie. Mostly. He did view Starscream as something special, but his reasoning for putting the seeker last mostly had to do with exactly what was happening now. His jealousy and attitude.

Starscream gave him a long, hard stare—and Megatron would never know whether he believed him or not. Instead, his wrist was suddenly snatched, and Starscream slid off the stool, forcing Megatron to stumble to keep up.

“Starscream—?” He questioned.

“Shut up.” Starscream snapped, quickening his pace. Megatron easily caught up to him due to their height difference, but he had to maintain a steady speed to keep up with the seeker.

Megatron did not shut up. “Where are we going?” He asked, not particularly thrilled about being tugged around. He was stronger than Starscream, and was supposed to be the one in charge here...

...And yet he was allowing himself being pulled around like a piece of work debris. He sighed internally before repeating himself. “Starscream.  _ Where  _ are we going?”

Starscream turned towards him, optics flaring red and a sneer on his face.

“Well, since I’m the  _ last  _ one you asked, I think it’s time we all had a group chat, don’t you?”

Megatron, a mighty warlord and gladiator of the past who had led a four million year long war suddenly felt very,  _ very  _ nervous.

And yet, he followed anyway.


	4. Four is the Perfect Number

Something Megatron truly appreciated about their home was how the rooms were divided. Although they had a master bedroom they all shared, each mech also had their own room with a berth and a small amount of space they could decorate to suit their own tastes. It worked out perfectly for when one of them needed privacy, was sick or just needed alone time.

Starscream’s room was a hazard. Even though he would have sudden cleaning spells, scrubbing things down till they shone, everything always got cluttered again. Lab projects that had been brought to his room overnight, a bed spilling over with off-world sheets and pillows, and dozens of different datapads flung everywhere. There was one corner of his desk where he had taped up various photos of his mates—small ones, as if he was embarrassed to have them. 

Sitting beside them on the desk was the crown he had worn at Megatron’s trial. A very Starscream-esque sentiment. The rest of the treasures in the room were far less sentimental, consisting primarily of dozens of trinkets and other crowns. It wasn’t uncommon to sleep with him and wake up with something gaudy and pointy stabbing at your armor. 

Megatron was just glad he now kept his more dangerous projects in his lab, after the incident where a corrosive substance bottle fell on Rodimus’ armor while the two were interfacing and nearly melted his cables. Now, you really just had to watch where you stepped. 

Rodimus’ room was messy as well but it was less clutter, more general mess. His walls were plastered with pictures of the Lost Light crew and his three lovers, the desk-map crammed in a corner and various other trinkets scattered about the space. Finally, taped to the ceiling above his bed, there was a custom pinup poster from Starscream of the seeker in a provocative position. Megatron couldn’t decide whether he envied Rodimus for the poster or hated the vain piece of paper.

Either way, Rodimus displayed it proudly. There were a few more provocative photos near his bed: tasteful nudes of the other three he had asked permission to put on the wall. This all came together to make Rodimus’ room crass and interesting, which suited the mech perfectly.

Drift’s room was the neatest of the decorated rooms—he was constantly swapping one piece of furniture or decoration for another, trying to find the perfect balance for his resting place. Some of the constants, however, were several beautiful offworld plants, a framed standee of the four and a copy of his religious teachings always kept on his bedside table. Megatron had fond memories of lounging there, just making small talk as he flipped through the pages of the tome to get a better look at the inner workings of Drift’s world.

Megatron’s own room was simple, barely furnished, and was often accosted by three needy partners. Megatron had frequently been needled by Starscream—and occasionally by Rodimus—to make it more homely. But this, to him, was homely. His walls were barren sans the mount he kept his fusion cannon on—guarded by an invisible barrier his clever little seeker had created—and the lighting fixture. And seeing how he was a more private mech, his own picture of his mates was tucked away in his bedside drawer. It was a special, intimate photo to him—all three of them in deep recharge, Starscream curled up to Rodimus’ chest with Drift against his back, the swordmech’s arm draped over the seeker’s side to clasp servos with Rodimus. It was serene, made Megatron’s old spark ache, and made the room feel more cozy than anything else could.

However, he did appreciate the long sheet and fluffy pillows Starscream had procured for him. Not only did they support his aching backstruts, they were perfect for warding off the tips of Starscream’s wings, a spoiler or finial going for his optic.

And they also made his mates’ lounging look good—as proven by Rodimus and Drift as Megatron was pulled into his bedroom by the insistent Starscream. They were stretched out, talking between themselves and sharing in the occasional kiss. Starscream grunted in displeasure.

“I didn’t say you could get handsy!” He snapped, servo still clutching at Megatron.

“I mean, you never said we  _ couldn’t. _ ” Drift replied coolly, and Rodimus chuckled, whispering, “Good one.”

Starscream’s scowl deepened, and Rodimus, always delighted when he found a way to tease, took Drift’s jaw and tilted it, sharing a deep, noisy kiss.

“ _ Hey! _ ” Starscream shrieked, a little too loud as he let the mech’s teasing get to him.

“No one said you couldn’t join, Star~” Rodimus purred, waggling his spoiler in a way that mimicked flightframe wings. Starscream always delighted in it. But right now, the seeker kept his disgruntled look.

“So all three of you have been  _ busy,  _ hmmm? You all spoke together about this, this  _ thing _ Megatron wishes to do and left me out..!”

Rodimus was opening his mouth in protest when Megatron spoke, freeing his wrist from the iron grip Starscream had been keeping it in.

“Starscream, quit with your suspicions!” The warlord growled. Starscream immediately bared his denta at him, fangs peeking out from the corner of his scowl. Megatron returned the look with a deep frown of his own, servo going up to catch Starscream under the chin.

“I saved you for last for many reasons. One was so you  _ didn’t  _ find some way to throw a fit, but the bigger one was because this is very important to me, and so are you, you frustrating little…!” He trailed off in a huff, giving Starscream’s face the tiniest shake. 

The glare shot at him was slightly undermined by the subtle blush appearing on Starscream’s cheek. He wrenched himself free of Megatron’s firm servo, batting him away with a huff.

“The fact I wasn’t included—!” He began, when Rodimus piped up.

“Screamer.” He said, ignoring the rude look given to him for his use of that nickname. “Megatron hasn’t done anything but just ask us what we thought. We know nothing else.”

“And I’ve refused to tell Rodimus anything about me and Megatron’s conversation until we all met. It’s all been one-on-one.” Drift added, smoothly running a hand over Rodimus’ helm. “I even suggested we don’t share our answers until we were all together.”

Starscream’s claws twitched at his side. “...Answers?” He finally said, sounding almost...embarrassed. He glanced to the side, and the fourway bond flooded with sudden thoughts and emotions all centered around  _ perhaps I acted foolishly… _

Rodimus sent a teasing pulse through the bond.  _ Duh. _

Starscream’s mouth began to twist into a scowl, when suddenly Megatron’s servo was on his shoulder, turning the seeker back to face him.

“We can step aside and finish our conversation, Starscream.” He murmured, trying not to let the frustration back into his tone. He rubbed his servo gently along the underside of the seeker’s left wing. “Or we can wait till tomorrow. Give you some time to think.”

He shot a quick, unamused look at Rodimus at the disappointment that seeped from his end of the bond. The mech sheepishly smiled and reeled in it, and Megatron turned his attention back to Starscream.

“...I don’t need to step aside.”

Megatron kept his gaze steady. “More time, then?”

Starscream made an odd noise, and the purple on his cheeks deepened. “No—I…”

He dropped his voice to a whisper, making Megatron crane down to hear it. “I am rather... _ interested _ in what you said earlier, and, well…”

He cleared his intake, and spoke up. “It’s a  _ tentative _ yes.”

Rodimus let out an excited noise. “Oh, frag yeah! I’ll change mine from earlier to an  _ enthusiastic _ yes.”

Drift shook his head at the two, although there was a tiny smile on his lips. “That makes three, then.” His smile widened as Rodimus whipped his head towards him with delight.

Megatron didn’t dare let his excitement completely bleed through. Composure was needed in this delicate situation. But before he could speak, Starscream suddenly pulled away—huffing as he bounced to the bed and practically  _ dove _ in between Rodimus and Drift. Rodimus made a surprised noise, swatting at the Seeker’s wing with a “ _ watch it…!”  _ and Drift shook his head, hands shooting out to pull Starscream into a more comfortable position for them all, ignoring his wiggling.

Megatron’s train of thought temporarily slowed as he found himself watching them. Starscream, now suitably adjusted with his arm over Drift as Rodimus ‘sneaked’ a hand towards his thigh, sniffed haughtily.

“So, how are we starting this?”

Megatron reset his optics once, then twice. Rodimus stifled a laugh at the older mech’s distracted expression.

“Starting...well. There’s plenty of…” Megatron trailed off. It was rather embarrassing, but he had been so consumed with just breaking the ice on the subject, he had failed to consider how they’d actually go about the whole process.

This life really had changed him. But he couldn’t complain—not when he looked at the three gorgeous creatures lounging on his berth.

Thankfully, Drift came to his rescue. “I have a suggestion. We should pick our desired creatures.” He ran a hand down Starscream’s other thigh, fingers brushing against Rodimus’. “Earth creatures might be simplest—and I’d like to be a wolf.”

“Cat.” Starscream quickly said, as if he thought someone would steal the idea. “I like cats. They know what they’re about.”

Rodimus tapped a finger to his chin. “You know, I was going to joke and say something like alligator, or some non-Earth creature like a Skloop, but you know what? I want to be a dog. Loyal, charming, and super cute.” He used the servo that wasn’t dancing over Starscream’s thigh and Drift’s hand to cup his face, batting his optics in a coy expression.

Megatron once again reset his optics. He really needed to start working on being their Master, but this was all so new, and the casual discussion of their wanted roles surprised him. He could only hope he would be able to slip into his own role as easily.

But perhaps now it was time to relax for the day. He had accomplished one of his main goals for the day far more smoothly than expected. 

And besides…

His optics followed along Rodimus’ servo where it was mirroring Drift’s own, making small circles on Starscream’s thigh. The seeker was slowly melting into the sheets, thrusters digging into the base of the bed as his legs began to slowly drift apart.

Rodimus leaned down to press a kiss to the smooth white metal, eliciting a soft groan from Starscream—and suddenly, Megatron felt his own codpiece begin to grow tight.

Rodimus and Starscream were both focused on each other, so it was Drift that glanced up at Megatron and winked at him, all while tracing Starscream’s valve panel with a finger. Drift’s side of the bond smoothly melded with Megatron’s own—whispering in his processor to  _ relax _ .

Megatron exhaled slowly through his nose, shuttering his optics to gain a moment of composure before they snapped open—and he turned to his desk in the corner of the room. Dragging the chair out from behind it, he plunked himself comfortably down—stretching his legs out and propping his cheek on his curled servo. All three of the gorgeous bots on his bed looked up at him—Drift’s optics smoldering, Starscream’s mouth twisted and cheeks flushed, and Rodimus’ face split by a wide grin.

Megatron smirked at them, crinkling the lines around his mouth.

Like a dam breaking, arousal flooded in from all sides of the bond. It was overwhelming and dangerously flattering how much that look did them all in. Starscream made a needy noise that Rodimus immediately devoured—cupping the seeker’s helm in one hand as he tilted him up to better slip a glossa into his mouth. Drift kept rubbing circles in Starscream’s thigh, slow and steady until he moved his hand, pushing down gently on the panel of his valve. It slid open with no resistance—Starscream’s node blinking rapidly with arousal. Drift slid two fingers into his folds, and gave Megatron the quickest look, optics sultry and lidded, before he spread Starscream open for the warlord to see.

Megatron’s throat cables bobbed as he swallowed, glossa feeling heavy as he was treated to a front row view of Starscream open and wet, his hole gaping hungrily as the seeker shuddered into the sheets. Even someone like Starscream could forget his earlier annoyances when good foreplay was presented.

Megatron felt his internals heat up and his spark thrum in satisfaction at how perfectly everything had fallen into place. His spike was hard enough now that it was bordering on impossible to keep it behind his panels, but a little edging never hurt anyone. He ran his servo over the heated metal, letting out a deep breath of arousal.

Starscream suddenly thrashed his legs in the sheets and let out an utterly  _ criminal  _ noise into Rodimus’ mouth as Drift dipped a finger into his valve opening. This was the tipping point, as Megatron burst out, “You all look so beautiful.”

Starscream mumbled a half hearted “shut up,” but Megatron saw his wings flutter from the praise. Rodimus grinned as he shifted from Starscream’s mouth to his neck, gently biting at the seeker’s neck cables. Megatron watched, fascinated, as Rodimus hooked his legs around Starscream’s own and began to rub his panel up and down—vigorously humping him.

Oh, how Megatron wanted _ more _ of that. Rodimus rutting, far more desperate than he was now, on the other pets. On Megatron’s  _ leg. _

The mechs on the berth had established somewhat of a rhythm—Drift was sliding a finger in and out of Starscream’s valve in tune with the thrusts of Rodimus’ hips, the seeker’s stuttering gasps accentuating their movements. Megatron hid his mouth behind his fist, denta digging into his lip as Drift added a second finger to Starscream’s sopping hole, stretching him wider as he leaned over to steal a kiss from Rodimus.

Megatron decided he had denied himself long enough and retracted his panel—his thick, heavy spike pressurizing rapidly into his waiting servo. He saw Rodimus give it a hungry glance, but Megatron refused to meet his optics. Not yet.

Instead, he worked his servo slowly up and down his massive length until he matched their pace. Well, Drift’s pace, at least. Rodimus’ humping had become more and more frantic, and as Starscream let out a broken whine at the prolonged teasing that came from being slowly fingered, Rodimus’ panels snapped back and his spike slapped against Starscream’s thigh. It was dripping with pre-fluid, and Rodimus wasted no time smearing it all over the white armor. His arms wrapped tight around Starscream’s middle as he continued to work himself up, and he leaned in to whisper something in the seeker’s audial that made Starscream  _ whimper. _

It was at that moment that the atmosphere of the room changed slightly—as Drift looked over at Megatron, optics glittering and fingers still moving at their maddeningly slow pace.

“Megatron, don’t you think Starscream is being a good little mech right now? He’s taking my fingers so nicely, after all.”

Megatron took a moment to process it all before he felt his spark speed up. He knew what was happening. Drift was giving him the opportunity to test out their new arrangement. He released his spike, heaving himself out of the chair to slowly walk over to the berth.

Rodimus’ gaze flickered up at him, optics glinting in curiosity—and although Megatron gave him a quick brush over his back, his former co-captain wasn’t the main focus of his current attentions.

No. He leaned over Starscream, carefully placing one servo on an unoccupied berth space by the seeker’s wings. His other grasped his beautiful conjunx’s chin, tilting it up so he could gaze deeply into the red pools of Starscream’s optics.

“You are being good, aren’t you?” Megatron rumbled, voice husky with pleasure as he gave the seeker a small smile. 

Starscream shuddered, and Megatron heard a wet  _ squelch _ as Drift plunged his fingers into the seeker’s valve with increasing speed. The warlord leaned in a little closer, breath ghosting over Starscream’s cheek.

“So obedient. So willing, making such pretty noises.” His voice had become dangerously low, his own spike twitching in arousal. His next words came in a deep growl that commanded the attention of everyone in the room:

“Such a  _ good pet _ .”

Starscream’s optics widened as a burst of static exploded from his lips, followed by an exclamation of surprise from Drift. Megatron ignored it momentarily, leaning in to bite at Starscream’s jawline when Rodimus announced in awe, “Oh, holy shit. He squirted all over your berth.”

Starscream groaned and brought one of his servos up to cover his face, pushing Megatron away with the other as the large mech shuffled to look back—and there was Drift, fingers withdrawn and wet, gazing at the thoroughly soaked patch on the berth.

“You liked that, huh Star?” Rodimus purred, nuzzling into Starscream’s neck. Megatron saw a flustered scowl peeking out from behind the seeker’s servos. Sensing that Rodimus was about to unknowingly push Starscream out of this delicately-balanced headspace, Megatron decided it was time to take matters into his own servo.

“Drift,” He started, careful with his wording as this all was new. “Would you like to frag Starscream?”

Drift’s finials flicked, optics brightening at the question. “Absolutely.” 

Megatron leaned down and carefully pushed a blue servo aside to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Starscream’s lips. The seeker opened receptively for him, glossas lazily tangling before Megatron drew back. Starscream made a needy noise, one that tugged at Megatron’s spark. For all his spiteful and wicked behavior, Starscream was unfairly cute at times.

“Do you want Drift to frag you?” He rumbled, giving Starscream a few kisses along his jaw to quiet him. Starscream immediately whispered a desperate  _ yes,  _ spreading his thighs obscenely wide so Drift had full access. Megatron heard the swordsmech make an appreciative noise, and the warlord craned his helm to watch Drift release his spike. 

Megatron shuffled back, standing up as Drift adjusted himself between Starscream’s thighs. Once in position, Drift wasted no time, hooking Starscream’s legs over his arms and sliding his spike into the seeker’s dripping valve with a single smooth, practiced motion—eliciting a wanton moan from between the seeker’s lips. 

“Fuck...fuck... _ yes! _ ” Starscream whimpered the Earth expletive almost like a prayer as Drift began to frag him—starting with slow, measured thrusts that quickly built up into sharp, stabbing ones that had Starscream losing all coherency, reducing the seeker to whimpers and choked sobs of pleasure.

Megatron could watch his two ex-subordinates frag for what felt like forever, but a desperate whine tore his optics away from them and onto the mech currently looking at him with desperate blue optics. Rodimus.

He didn’t give Rodimus a chance to speak—or whine—again, whispering “Stay” in a firm tone. Rodimus’ spoiler twitched and he wriggled a little, hands skittering over Starscream’s abdominal plating, but otherwise the mech stayed still.

Megatron walked around to the side of the bed Rodimus was occupying, and crawling onto it, he easily wrapped one large hand around Rodimus’ waist and pulled back, encouraging him to follow. Rodimus was surprisingly obedient in his desperation—a beautiful thing, Megatron thought—and quickly scootched back, allowing Megatron to guide him onto his knees, hands planted in front of him. 

The warlord rumbled pleasantly before curling himself over Rodimus—chest searing against the young Prime’s back, his large servo slinking between those lovely orange thighs. Upon locating his prize—an erect, weeping spike—he grasped it firmly and relished in the long, pleasured moan that fell from Rodimus’ mouth. 

Hearing that noise made his vents flare—and he began to pump Rodimus’ spike firmly up and down, delighting in the way the mech lurched forward, glossa hanging from his mouth as he panted in pleasure. As he did, Megatron pictured this same scenario in his mind, but in this version, there was a beautiful collar adorning Rodimus’ neck.

The thought made him growl in arousal, and he pressed forward till Rodimus was bent underneath him, spitting out curses as freely as Starscream, but mixed with Megatron’s designation. 

The warlord kept his hand going at a steady pace, feeling the charge crackle across his fingers from Rodimus’ spike—and he shifted so his own spike was pushed between thick, warm thighs. Instantly, there was a snap as Rodimus’ panel flew open, and Megatron’s spike slid through the wet folds of a plump, dripping valve. His vents hitched, servo squeezing the spike clutched in it till Rodimus  _ squeaked _ in from the stimulation of it all.

The room was filled with the messy noises of them interfacing: whimpers, whines and groans, the clang of Drift’s hips against Starscream’s aft, the wet squelch of the seeker’s valve and the filthy noises that emanated from Megatron fucking Rodimus’ valve lips. At some point, his audials caught a weak  _ I love you _ , but he couldn’t tell from whom it came. Despite that, it made his spark clench so tightly it felt like it would burst.

As wonderful as it would be for this moment to last forever, eventually all good things must come to an end, and this ending came in the form of a chain reaction. Starscream suddenly let out a sharp noise, and Megatron watched Drift gasp—optics frizzing as the seeker no doubt clenched his valve down in overload—and Drift  _ slammed _ his hips against Starscream’s, emptying himself inside as his frame jerked forward, hips stuttering as he finished overloading. The two of them were breathing heavily, and Drift allowed himself to collapse partially on Starscream—one hand keeping him from fully laying on the seeker, the other cupping his face to press their lips together, far more tenderly than anyone would have ever thought them capable of.

Rodimus—never wanting to be left out—jerked forward as Megatron kept up his steady spike-pumping and valve-lip-fucking, and he managed to plant several sloppy kisses on Drift’s shoulder.The swordsmech looked up lazily at him with a smirk before lifting the fingers that had been inside Starscream just moments earlier and plunging them inside Rodimus’ mouth.

It was unusually crude, but it was obvious to all that Rodimus  _ loved _ it. He made sloppy, hungry noises as he thoroughly cleaned Drift’ fingers of the seeker’s fluids, and between that, Megatron’s attention on his spike, and the warlord’s own spike repeatedly driving into Rodimus’ valve, it was only a matter of moments until Megatron felt Rodimus jerk, heard the choked gasp, and felt warm transfluid spill all over his fingers.

He was sure, if he wanted, he could last longer—take one of the others and plunge his spike into their valve—but seeing overload after overload made Megatron desperately want his own, so he moved his servo to clutch Rodimus’ thigh, keeping him in place as his spike plunged back and forth between fat valve lips.

His optics almost fluttered shut, but he managed to keep them open—because he got to see Starscream leaning up to nudge Drift’s fingers aside and slide his glossa right into Rodimus’ mouth, tasting himself with a pleased noise.

Megatron  _ growled, _ took was one last thrust, and pressed Rodimus deep into the sheets of the berth, transfluid splattering on the inside of the mech’s thighs and dripping down to the sheets of the berth. Waves of pleasure lapped at his entire frame as his spike gave its last weak, little spurts, and with a great sigh of relief, he wrapped his arms around Rodimus and fell to his side, dragging the orange mech down with him.

Rodimus let out a choked laugh, his own vents ragged as he leaned into the massive arms holding him close. For a moment, all was peaceful; four mechs delighting in the aftermath of a pleasant interfacing session.

Until…

“Why does  _ Rodimus _ get to be held?” Starscream’s voice, high pitched even with the raspiness from his overloads, came from the other side of the berth. Megatron couldn’t see, but he  _ knew _ Drift was rolling his optics.

“You’re more than welcome to come over, Starscream, granted you don’t poke someone with your wing’s tips.” He muttered, frame already feeling heavy from his overload and the excitement of today. His optics were starting to flutter shut, listening to Starscream try and command Drift to  _ carry him over _ and Rodimus declaring that no, there wasn’t really any room--

He knew that the days ahead of them would be filled with equal amounts of obstacles and delights, and he had plenty of work to do--but for now, he allowed himself to fall asleep to the sound of his three lovers--his future  _ pets _ \--all lovingly squabbling and shaking the berth, a chaotic lullaby lulled him off to recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ends the first installment of this fic! don't worry, there is PLENTY left to write in this series. i'll hopefully be posting the next part soon, so keep your eyes peeled, and i hope you enjoyed these four chapters so far! <3


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